


neither pink nor pale

by vanasha



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Biting, Blood Drinking, Cunnilingus, Dissociation, Dubious Consent, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Mind Break, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Oral Sex, Size Difference, Submission, Vaginal Fingering, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29154408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanasha/pseuds/vanasha
Summary: The maids came and went, but what didn’t change was that they all seemed to be more or less wary of you. Why else would you be excluded from their conversations, would they throw nervous glances in your direction as if you weren’t part of the staff like themselves?Had they heard about how Lady Dimitrescu personally asking you to work for her, back when you had stumbled into her by accident on one of her rare visits in the village? How her eyes had lit up when seeing you for the first time, a slow smile taking over her face and your heart missing a beat because no one had ever looked at you in this way?Or, you're a maid in the mansion, and you just might be the Lady's favourite.
Relationships: Alcina Dimitrescu/reader, Lady Dimitrescu/reader
Comments: 28
Kudos: 570





	neither pink nor pale

**Author's Note:**

> Why wait for the game to come out when I can already just sit here and dream of the tall vampire lady?

None of the other maids had quit.

There’s not a lot you’re certain of in this mansion, not a lot that you think you understand, even less that you think you _want_ to understand, but this, that none of them left this place the way they had intended it, was a fact that you knew.

They had talked about it before, you have heard them. They _all_ talked about it, sooner or later. Speaking in hushed whispers in your shared chamber or in the kitchen, about simply taking their bags and making a run for it, too afraid of what went on right in front of their eyes. Not in front of your Lady or her daughters of course, not even when you were in sight, but only whenever they thought to be in private.

What they missed was that there was nothing like “privacy” here. Even when you were completely on your own, trying to find sleep at night, you’re never alone, not really. The feeling of someone’s eyes on you, no matter where you went or what you did, always stayed. Like the saying goes, walls have ears. It goes for every place you supposed, only that these walls here also seem to have eyes and a heartbeat, and maybe even some kind of intention that you’ve never been able to fully grasp.

The one thing all maids could agree to was that they didn’t feel safe here. That most of them had felt uneasy from the start, the moment they entered the mansion and tried to make a home, a living here.

It made you wonder. None of that was wrong per se, unsettling things happened in this place, right in front of you, and often you felt as if unsettling things were happening _to_ you as well. Changing you, frightening you and yet– yet you can’t remember if you ever felt unsafe.

Quite the opposite, when you thought about it. Had you ever felt safer than here, in these rooms, in this home? Had you ever been cared for so much that you’d never have to be alone, ever again?

Sometimes it seemed as if you were simply waiting for something without knowing for what. That you had been waiting for a very long time now. Like a penny that’s been thrown into the air, and all you can do is wait and see where it lands.

During your tasks in the house, you often thought to yourself. There was hardly anything to do but think.

Was your mind-set what made you different from the others? Had this been what the Lady herself had seen in you, months ago, half a year or maybe more? It had gotten harder and harder for you to keep track of time. It had been spring when you had been taking in and now the wind and the snow were clouding the view whenever you peeked out of the windows.

The maids came and went, but what didn’t change was that they all seemed to be more or less wary of you. Why else would you be excluded from their conversations, would they throw nervous glances in your direction as if you weren’t part of the staff like themselves?

Had they heard about how Lady Dimitrescu personally asking you to work for her, back when you had stumbled into her by accident on one of her rare visits in the village? How her eyes had lit up when seeing you for the first time, a slow smile taking over her face and your heart missing a beat because no one had ever looked at you in this way? You couldn’t ever remember wanting anyone to, but under her gaze you felt as if you had come to life for the very first time.

A real lady, you had thought, sophisticated and oh so beautiful, and she asked for _you_.

Maybe the other maids had noticed how grateful you were to her, for giving you this chance to make a life of your own, of your own choosing. How ready you were to read her every wish right from her lips, no matter how strange it might seem to you. That she asked for you, kindly, when she needed anything because she trusted you to not stick your nose in things it didn’t belong in. She trusted you to never worry her with your thoughts, not when first the meat the butcher delivered didn’t look at all like the meat you used to prepare meal with for your family. Or when later you realised that you knew nothing about wine but still, found the one your Lady and her daughters preferred to drink and sell seemed a lot thicker than what you were used to.

That it’s been a long time since you’ve had to go down to the village to visit the butcher or anyone else for the matter, but why would you, when your place was here? When you were needed, _wanted_ here?

You fit right in, your Lady herself had told you so. There had been a stupid smile on your face and a spring to your step for the rest of day when she had complimented you in this way. Finding a place for yourself, this was all you’ve ever wanted and sometimes you couldn’t believe that you’ve found it here.

It was easy enough for you, to keep your head down, to speak when spoken to. To stop asking questions when you saw the ladies of the house lose their temper when someone dared to question them. Of course, you were wondering about certain things, as everyone did, but it happened quietly, on your own. None of that felt worth risking to lose the only taste of freedom you’ve ever had.

Only once Lady Dimitrescu had seen something close to uncertainty run over your face. Ever since then you had tried to hide it better and were relieved that it came easier and easier to you, the more time passed. It had been not long after your engagement, when you were filling up her tea cup, the special kind she only allowed you to prepare for her, lest one of the maids threw another fit over it. (And hadn’t Magda made a fool out of herself when letting the entire dinner trail crash to the floor after she saw what was inside the teapot? It had been the last you’ve seen of her, silently crying in the kitchen.)

You poured the tea, watching the cup slowly fill as not to spill one drop, and as you looked down into the fluid, the smell of iron and something bitter nearly overwhelming you, you suddenly asked yourself what you were doing here. For how long you had been doing this, when none of this felt right, when none of this _was_ right. Why had it been so easy for you to shove Magda aside when she had spoken nothing but the truth–When one soft but cold glove touched your arm and the Lady herself stopped you in your tracks, her eyes full of worry.

You only then realised that you nearly caused the cup to overflow. Blood rushed to your cheeks, embarrassed for drifting off like this.

There was an amused little smile on her face when you finally dared to look up, normally trying to keep your curious eyes to yourself, still not knowing all about the proper etiquette, when to speak or when to look. These honey-coloured eyes though, focused solely on you, didn’t allow you to look away. A warmth had spread through your body and your mind, as if a comfortable heavy blanket was pulled back over the rush of confusing thoughts in your head.

“It’s alright, my dear,” she said with a small smirk on her painted lips. “Don’t you worry about a thing. You’re doing just fine.”

It was as if her eyes had looked right through you. And you knew that these words shouldn’t have calmed you down as quickly as they’d had, that that there was no way she could have known what was going on in your head, that this explained _nothing_ and shouldn’t you ask for answers? Shouldn’t you ask questions?

Yet, in this moment all of these thoughts seemed ridiculous to you. Your Lady was right, of course, there was nothing to worry about, what did you know about wine and the finer tastes and why would you be anywhere but here? Magda’s crying and strange complaints must have gotten into your head somehow, messing you up without you realising it.

It was painful enough that you had needed a reminder to clear your head once more, but you were thankful that your Lady was kind when pointing it out to you. But when had she been anything but kind to you?

Feeling better instantly, you nodded, smiled and tried to take a polite step back until you realised that her hand was still on your bare skin. The touch lingered only a second longer, before she took the cup out of your hands and guided it to her mouth, painting her upper lip in a brighter shade of red. Her eyes were closed in silent delight and you swallowed at the sight before averting your eyes.

Quickly, you stepped side when one of her daughters joined her for tea. You had only dared to imagine but for a moment how her bare and pale skin would have felt on yours.

As peculiar as things could be in this house, there were chores and schedules just like in any other.

One of your tasks included cleaning the tea table after lunch, which meant setting the untouched pies that the cook freshly made every morning aside for the rest of the staff to eat. (And eating one of the pretty little cakes in the kitchen by yourself, as if you yourself were a noble lady of the house, was always one of the highlights of your day.)

There were always a lot of leftovers, and only during your very first days in this mansion you had suspected that this was because rich people might just enjoy looking at fancy decorated food more than eating it. You had supposed the ladies were mindful of their figure but by now you knew they preferred hefty dishes to sweet ones, very much unlike yourself.

With a creak the door opened behind you and without turning around you felt the eyes of one of your co-workers on you. She didn’t greet you, so you didn’t either, and you tried not to feel hurt by it but instead hurried at doing the dishes. Eva was bright-eyed, somewhat skittish and had only been here for little more than a week. It was clear that she didn’t feel comfortable with you, not after she had once caught you simply holding the cup of your Lady in your hands, looking down at the imprint her lipstick had left on it. Your finger had been hovering over it for an embarrassingly long moment before finally shaking your head, returning to your senses and putting it into the water to clean it.

It wasn’t as if you had known what you were doing. There hadn’t been a clear thought in your head, and it wasn’t as weird as she made it out to be, you were sure. Who wouldn’t have some sort of fascination with the Lady herself, and so what if it had been growing ever since your first meeting in the village and found her lovelier than ever the longer you spent time in this house?

Still, it stung slightly that ever since then Eva had hardly spoken a word to you. Not that she had been particularly talkative before, when you had silently moved aside the belongings of the maid that had come before her and had left without a word.

They never packed their bags. Whenever the maids disappeared, their belongings stayed right where they had left them. Maria’s glass right on the bedside table, the book Carmen had hardly ever been seen without, yet none of the girls had been anywhere in sight.

It had made you frown but when Lady Dimitrescu herself, or in some cases one of their daughters, kept ordering you to put the belongings of the others aside or use them for yourself, claiming the maids had left in a hurry, who were you to argue? There had been family emergencies or an incident that demanded their immediate attention that had called for a sudden end of their working contract, leaving no time to pack before they left. It sounded rational enough to you but it seemed strange that all of these incidents repeated itself. As did the disappearing of the maids.

You found yourself believing them less and less, not certain if it was because they made less of an effort to come up with reasons for their sudden departure or because you had heard them all before.

Maybe it was easier for you to shrug it all off because it you’d never been particularly close to anyone else, though not out of lack of trying. _Now_ you weren’t sure anymore if you should bother learning their names at all, seeing that they never stayed for long. A fact that should have probably unsettled you more than it actually did, but that was easy enough to push aside with every passing day.

After all, the most unusual things could be cast aside if they happened regularly.

You were well aware that the maids must think you stupid for not seeing what was right in front of you. Or worse, _wicked_ to not care about it. And sometimes you thought they must be right because what other explanation was there? Hadn’t your mother always chastised you for being such an odd child, your head always up somewhere in the clouds?

More often than not, you now found yourself certain it had to be the other way around. For it definitely wasn’t you that didn’t even make an effort to look _behind_ the strange on-goings of this place, for failing to see that the lady of the house had put her faith in you, trusted you in her own home, into her life and business, only to be greeted with doubt and fear. A kindhearted woman taking care of her daughters and the family business all by herself would, of course, ask for loyalty and obedience and somehow you were the only one though thought this wasn’t too much to ask.

Eva whispered at night. Not to you, but to Andrea, the only other maid currently employed besides you. She had already been here for a few months and already you could feel the dread and slow growing fear ooze off of her like a smell she couldn’t rid herself of. You felt it in your bones that she wouldn’t stay much longer. (And why didn’t this knowledge make you scream out? Make you want to warn her, grab her by the hand to pack up your things and run. Why didn’t you even think of _trying_ , what was wrong with you–)

In the silence of the night, with only the wind hauling outside, Eva told her friend of shadows where there shouldn’t be any, of the looks the daughters threw at her while the Lady of the house herself barely spared her a glance. Of the sensation of many little legs crawling over her, sometimes under her skin, when she knew for a fact that there were none.

Her friend didn’t reply, too busy to stare at the ceiling with empty eyes, but what was there to say? That Eva should consider herself lucky she was yet to find maggots and insects crawling over her at night or in her food? That she had yet to notice the stench and noises coming out of the basement?

Once you had made a face at the smell of something rotten coming out of the basement door, too strong for you to hide it, only for Lady Dimitrescu to put her arm around you and pull you with her to kitchen.

“Oh my little one, worry doesn’t suit your pretty face now, does it? Have I not taken care of you here?”

Quickly, you assured her that, yes, of course, she had been nothing but gracious to you and you let yourself be taken away, to instead take care of her wish for tea instantly, gladly.

And was what you said not the truth? She always had a kind word for you to spare, a smile or a light touch of her hand. Never you had seen her make any inclination of touching Andrea or Eva, and for some reason that thought had kept you humming a sweet tune under your breath until the moment your head had hit your pillow.

Maids came and went, but what was any of it to you as long as you were allowed to stay?

Andrea disappeared only a couple of days later. There was no explanation given, not that you asked. Methodically, you changed her sheets, cleared her part of the closet and put away the few small signs in the house that had ever hinted of her existence, all before someone could ask you to.

You had nearly forgotten about it, about _her_ by midday until Eva broke down in the kitchen, right in the middle of preparing lunch. (What was it that this sort of thing always happened in your kitchen?)

It took you a distressing amount of time to realise what must have caused Eva’s fit but once you did, you cleaned your hands on your apron and kneeled down next to her, your mind running to find something you could say and coming up empty. Carefully, you put your hand on her shoulder, at least trying to offer support in the only way you knew. She pushed you away roughly as if she couldn’t bear your presence.

“Don’t touch me!” Eva yelled in a shrill voice. “What is _wrong_ with you? What is wrong with this place? Where did she go? Why is no one talking to me?”

She had been on you before you had a chance to react, her fists weakly taking hold of your blouse, as if wanting to shake you but wanting an answer too badly to do it. 

“What do you mean?” you asked and couldn’t for the life of you say why. Why weren’t you fighting back? Why was Eva the only one freaking out when you should have asked these exact same questions, months ago? When you had every reason to ask them now, to join her in her fit?

Eva looked at you as if you had lost your mind, and maybe she was right. After all, when she let go of you as if burned and stormed outside, you simply got back to your feet, staring at nothing in particular until finally brushing over your apron before going back to draping lunch on the appropriate plates.

Andrea had been unhappy here, you thought, so why would she ever get to keep her position here?

Eva stayed in your shared room for the rest of the day. It hardly bothered you, being used to stemming most of the work nowadays. If anything, the work felt like no trouble at all without anyone distracting you or slowing you down. Maybe it would be easier for you once Eva was gone as well, no one threw a scene like that and stayed longer than necessary–

You nearly dropped a plate when you realised what you had just thought. With a shaking hand you gripped the countertop, trying to keep yourself upright. A sudden dizziness overcame you, and your head ached, a dull but throbbing pain, as you looked around the room full of wonderful dishes that you knew would go to waste because no one would eat them. Because something was wrong in this house, with the inhabitants, just like there was something wrong with you because you knew and you _stayed_.

You opened your mouth, to call out for help or to take another deep breath, you weren’t sure, but you had to something, when the backdoor of the kitchen opened with a heavy sound.

Lady Dimitrescu had returned, and with her the cold wind forced its way inside, making you wince when it drove right into your thin uniform. But it brought you back to the presence, the echo of her heels on the floor, the excusing smile on her face working magic on your mind and spirit. You hadn’t realised how much you had missed her presence. Had missed _her_.

Everything was alright when she was with you once more, back from a trip to god-knows-where. She apologized for startling you but before she had a chance to take your hand in hers, as she always did on her return, you cleaned them once more on your apron and opened the door to the main hall for her. After travelling through this unforgiving weather for such a long time, she deserved a room that was warmer and more inviting.

Nothing would have made more sense to you than if your Lady had been arrogant and shallow, like people claimed nobles like her to be. Yet she kept surprising you from the moment you had met. You’d never thought that she’d sometimes she liked to surprise you or the others, entering the house through the servant’s door, as if she were a mere commoner and not the Lady of the house or that she’d personally greet you and the other staff.

What first startled you, now made you delight in these little visits, as it gave you the chance to see her before anyone else, to share a private moment with her before she went back out to the world.

She sighed in ease when she stepped closer to the fireplace, allowing you to help her out of her shawl and her hat. You dared to admire the shine of her perfectly draped hair or the way the dress hugged her body out of the corner of your eye, not wanting to risk to openly stare at her.

When she turned to you to thank you, teeth white and bright, you were sure she must have heard the sound of your heart dropping into your stomach. How could you ever have doubted her, doubted your place here?

Her hand shortly stroked over your cheek and you shivered, telling yourself that it was only because of how cold she was to the touch. She gave you a small nod, which you took as a cue to hang up her accessories and then to return to the kitchen.

A dark glove on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

She turned you as if you’d been in the middle of a conversation that had gone over your head, and maybe you had been, it was so easy to lose track of time and place when you were with her.

Had she been standing this close to you before? You’ve always thought that she was so light on her feet, a stark contrast to her height, but everything she did always seemed so graceful to you.

“Would you come to my room after dinner, my dear?” she asked you, and you only frowned for a moment because the idea of you rejecting her seemed so outrageous to you. She towered over you, the heavy smell of her perfume clouding your senses and you felt warmth spreading out over your face and ears. You lowered your eyes, hopefully before she could take any notice of it.

“Of course,” you replied, relishing in the way her eyes roamed over you, as wind-ruffled as you must look, before excusing yourself to let her daughters know about when to expect dinner.

You were sure that she wanted you to personally freshen up her room for her arrival, something you had already taken care of this morning, as you always did no matter if you had been informed of her return or not. The room was spotless, kept clean and fresh, and you took certain pride in.

And yet you’d never complain if she wanted you to do it all once more, this time under her watchful eye.

Nearly giddy with excitement, you forced yourself to take another deep breath to calm yourself down. The last thing you wanted to do was leave a bad impression on her, be it with your looks or your behaviour. Acting like a school girl with a crush was beneath you, and certainly beneath her.

You were the only one allowed to clean your Lady’s room so you were already intimately aware of it, knew the place of every single piece of decoration, where she stored her precious jewellery and the exact way she preferred the curtains to fall. The mornings that included tidying up her already spotless quarters were your favourite part of your schedule, followed only by the secret pieces of cake you allowed yourself in the kitchen.

You aired every room of the mansion each morning, yet faint traces of her perfume, every drop of it no doubt more expensive than what you made in a month, always lingered in the air. Rarely, and only when the Lady was out on one of her business trips that always took far too long for your taste, you swallowed your pride and put your head into her room, telling yourself it was only to check if everything was alright, before turning to bed. Taking the light smell of her with you so that it was the last thing on your mind before falling asleep. It made it so much easier to drown out everything else but her.

Your rough sheets stood no chance against the silk of your Lady’s bed, just as soft as her clothes that were always draped over chairs and cushions. All of them softer than anything you’d ever touched. Sometimes you imagined her skin to feel exactly the same under your fingertips.

Maybe you were no better than a simple school girl after all but at least you had the decency to hide it.

Often, you had tidied up around her, with her busy on the phone, her notes or with a book. At first you had been worried of bothering her and her work, had immediately tried to excuse herself when finding her still in her room whenever you had been supposed to tidy up. She wouldn’t have any of that, though, instead she waved you inside with her elegant fingers and an amused glint in her eye, and you had taken a deep breath before taking care of your duties as quietly and carefully as possible.

The heavy weight of her gaze on you, unabashed and curious, had often been a distraction but with how many valuable bits and pieces were surrounding the both of you, how you were intruding in her own sanctuary, you had thought she had any right to. Still, it sped up your heartbeat and darkened your cheeks even though your work never slackened.

Taking another look into the mirror, you made sure not one hair on your head was out of place even though there was no point in trying to pull off anything even close to how gorgeous your Lady looked.

Without so much as glancing at Eva, who sat on her bed and stared outside of the window, her face and knuckles as white as the sheets she held in a tight grip, you closed the door behind you. It would have been nice to find a friend in this place, you thought. Someone to share your secrets and feelings with, but there was no point in trying with her now, not when she probably wouldn’t be staying more than another month or so with the way she was already slowly losing it. 

Distantly, you realised how upsetting your thoughts were, that you should be shocked with how little you cared. They were soon replaced with the knowledge that you were on the way to the women that you felt indebted to, though, and so your thoughts and Eva hardly mattered. What mattered was the big white door in front of you, its golden ornaments shining in the candle light of the hallway.

Your knock on the door was answered softly, and you tried not to pay any mind to the slight shaking of your hand as you opened it. It had been a stressful day for you, with Eva and your Lady’s return, your mind running from one thought to the other without you having any chance to catching up. It was to be expected that your frail nerves would gain the upper hand but you hoped that you’d be able to refrain bothering your Lady with it.

She sat in front of her mirror, looking over her perfectly applied make-up. In her hand she held her phone, but she paused in her reply to invite you in with a smirk on her lips. She didn’t excuse herself and there was no need to, she was a busy woman and you were more than happy to wait.

You knew better than to try and eavesdrop to her conversation, better than to start cleaning when she gave you no indication that you should do so. It was harder to keep your eyes on your feet when she was so close to you, looking so beautiful. But you knew that your reflection would have stared right back at you so you stayed in front of the door, trying not to make a sound and forcing your heartbeat to slow down.

To no avail, it took all your energy to fight down the damned blush that took over your face once you felt her eyes on you, taking you in you from head to toe, slowly, while she made thoughtful noises to whoever she was conversing with on the phone.

You could practically hear her smile and it did wonders to your pulse.

“I’m sorry for the wait,” she said when she hung up the phone a few minutes later. “You know how business can be.”

You did not but nodded anyway. “It was no trouble at all, my Lady.”

There was a pause and then you heard movement from the chair. When you peeked up you saw that Lady Dimitrescu had leaned back in it, considering you. Her face was serious.

You swallowed. Had you said something wrong?

“You really mean that, don’t you?” she asked, her head tilted, as if in thought. “I could ask whatever I wanted from you and you would gladly do it, would you not?” Her sentence was phrased as a question but there was none in it. It sounded as if she was either only now realising this as a fact or taking the time to relish in it.

You swallowed once more, the noise strangely audible in the quiet room and it made you feel stupid. You didn’t know what to say. She was right, of course, but were you not supposed to agree with her?

“You have been here, with me, for such a long time now, longer than anyone else,” she went on, apparently not expecting an answer from you. You were glad of it. “How did I happen to stumble over you? Not once in my life I have had the pleasure of such a– such a devoted little maid.”

Despite the rush in your ears and how you could feel your blush creep over not only your face but down to your chest as well, you couldn’t help but keep looking at her. Bright honey-coloured eyes met yours, for once on the same level of height, with her sitting and you standing.

It was as if both of you were taking each other in for the very first time. Or maybe that was just you feeling light-headed, with the strong smell of her perfume reaching your nose and filling your lungs.

There was amusement in her face but no cruelty. She had never been cruel to you, not like she could be with the other maids, not like her daughters.

The soft light of the candles let her skin and the pearls around her neck shine softly, some shade in between white, pink and grey. Her dress was as beautiful and complimenting as ever but when your eyes went back to her face where sharp teeth were biting into a plush dark bottom lip, you couldn’t hide the shiver that went through you.

The corner of her mouth twitched at that and you lost what little bit of boost of confidence her words had given you. Quickly, you licked your lips, only now realising how dry they felt and averted your eyes.

What had been her question again? Had there been one?

“I’m sorry, my Lady,” you said with a frown, looking down at your shoes. You had no idea for what exactly you were apologising. For staring at her like this or for– for not remembering what she had just said to you, hadn’t she asked you a question? Had you offended her in some way? You felt dizzy and confused and so warm all over and you had no idea why.

“It’s alright, my dear. I’ve got you,” a hand took hold of your chin, tilting your head up. It felt like ice against your skin but perfectly right with how you were burning up. _Was_ this alright?

When had she moved closer to you? Since when were you pressed against the door?

“I’m right here. It’s alright now,” she repeated, and when she leaned down to pull your head up and put these wonderful, painted lips on yours, you believed her.

It must have been alright. After all, why else would it feel so good to feel her tongue enter your mouth, the promise of her teeth on your lip and the hint of nails on your jaw and your neck, and just when had she removed her gloves?

You couldn’t breathe, and you didn’t need to because she groaned right into your mouth and you felt it down your throat and skin and going through entire body. A sound she had made for you, _because_ of you, the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever heard.

Your world spun around you, colours blurring into each other until all you could see was pale white, until all you felt was soft silk underneath and above you. At one point you must have been moved to her bed and now you found yourself lying on the very same sheets that you had just changed this morning, with your Lady above you, her weight a comforting pressure and her dress and her skin cold but heavenly to the touch, just like you always imagined them to be. Her face was all you could see, the smell of her perfume, the smell of _her_ , something dark and rich was all around you, suffocating you in the most enticing way.

A pathetic whine reached your ears, and it took you a moment to realise that it came from your throat. Lady Dimitrescu was licking into your mouth, her hands in your hair as she held you in place, right where she wanted you to. Not that you wanted to be anywhere but here.

She tasted of wine and copper and something raw that you couldn’t put your finger on, but then again, you couldn’t remember a moment in your life where you put your fingers on anything that wasn’t her. One of your hands gripped the sheets beneath you, the other one her dress, feeling her beneath it, and you sighed when she pulled your hand up onto her chest, pressing herself against you, seemingly just as desperate as you felt. She was so close to you and you felt like that first time you had tried alcohol, when it had immediately rushed right to your head, leaving you in a happy but clouded daze.

You had no idea for how long you had been allowed to kiss her, to touch her, but only when she moved over to your neck, leaving open-mouthed bites that left you groaning, you noticed that the taste in your mouth lingered, even increased. Distantly you felt the cuts her teeth must have left on your lips, your tongue and the inside of your mouth, where she must have split open your skin by accident. It stung, but the thought was pushed into the back of your mind when her mouth reached your chest and finally bit down on your nipple. Your back arched, in pain and pleasure because was there a difference anymore, and what did it matter that you couldn’t even remember her ever opening your dress, when she held you down with only one of her big hands, when her chuckle and her own soft sighs were the only thing reaching your head.

She came back up to your swollen lips, hers glistening red, a different shade than her lipstick, that was smeared all over her chin and probably all over you as well. It seemed brighter and fresher, and you couldn’t help but want a taste. Your mouth was already opening for her, all to ready to suck her tongue back into it, relishing in the sounds that left her at that. She tasted like the tea she preferred and that you shared with her only once, after she had asked you with an amused expression to at least try it one time, for her sake. You would have done anything for her sake and so you hadn’t hesitated. The taste had made you wince, but still you had emptied the cup. You had liked her eyes on you too much, her reaction when you did as she asked, and you were sure that right now you’d do whatever else she asked of you if only she kept touching you like this.

Only a part of you was aware that your neck and your chest were burning in pain, but so was the place between your legs, and this was all you could think about. When a cold hand crept into your panties, when thick fingers drove right into you, torturously slow, you forgot everything beyond that.

A sob escaped you when her mouth left yours and she licked over her lips as if savouring the taste. You tried to pull her back, but she simply grabbed your wrists with one hand and pulled them aside as if your strength meant nothing to her. You let out another sound, this one more relieved, when you realised she was licking her way down your body.

The fact that she was leaving a trail of blood and lipstick on your body, from your lips to your navel, that every place she touched hurt but at the same time didn’t hurt _enough_ , didn’t reach you anymore. Instead, what made you frown, made you stop, at least for a second, was that the fact that her dress was utterly ruined. Imprints of red were all over her sleeves and upper body, and there was torn fabric where you had mindlessly groped her chest. You opened your mouth to say something, to say _anything_ because what were you doing here, what were you allowing her to do, she reached her destination where she pressed your legs apart and put her mouth on you.

Nothing else mattered after that. There were praises coming from her lips, if you had been in the right mind, all of them would have made you blush.

You only realised that your hands were free once more when you helplessly grasped her hair with them, messing up her perfect curls as her tongue immediately found your clit. Your legs were shaking and trying so desperately to close, to press down on her head, to grind against her face, her tongue, her hands, anywhere that gave you the friction you desperately needed, but to no avail, she kept you in place almost effortlessly.

Needy wails and groans left you, until your throat felt just as sore as your body, but even that still didn’t drown out the noises Lady Dimitrescu made in between your legs. You knew that this would have embarrassed you to death if you had still been able to come up with a coherent thought.

Once or twice you had put your hands on yourself to more impure thoughts that you entertained about her, and always there had been a feeling of shame following your pleasure. None of your quick and desperate touches underneath your blanket late at night could compare to what you were feeling right now, with cold fingers entering you at a rough and punishing pace while a warm tongue toyed with your clit.

You had long lost your sense of time and place, but to you it felt like something in between no time at all and forever, until you were pushed towards an edge and right over it. Your cries echoed from the walls as you frantically tried to pull closer and yet further away from her, as you shivered and sobbed, but not even then did your Lady stop her sweet torment, did she let you catch your breath. Instead she kept going until you were sure you'd lost your mind.

It wasn’t until tears were streaming down your face and you lied beneath her, motionless as a doll, shivers still going through you at random, that she slowly let go of you. Her hands stayed on you though, keeping your legs apart, and she kept licking and biting the soft insides of your thighs, though the pain that must have followed her teeth was barely noticeable to your dulled senses.

Your eyes felt heavy and it took what little bit you had left of your strength to keep them open. The light of the candles had long since dimmed down, painting Lady Dimitrescu’s face in shadows, her expression unlike anything you had never seen on her before.

She looked down on you, her head tilted as she carelessly wiped over her wet mouth and chin with her already soiled sleeve. Her other hand took a hold of your cheek, stroking over it almost fondly before moving over to your lips. She pressured them open with her thumb, letting the digit slide right in.

“You've done so well, my dear,” she said. A grin spread over her face, and somehow her teeth seemed brighter and sharper than they had before. “You’ll just let me take care of you, won’t you?”

Barely holding on to your consciousness, you tried to make sense of her words. Even without her finger in your mouth, even if you had wanted to, if _she_ wanted you to, you weren’t sure you’d be able to give her an answer. Her warm eyes were burning into yours, so clearly waiting for an one, though, before the smile on her face grew even wider, sharper, nearly inhumanly so.

It was then that you realised that you had already grasped her wrist to pull her finger deeper into your mouth. And that you were frantically nodding.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
